“I said a ride not a walk,” Alec stated.
The dog continued to hold the leash.
“Lucky, huh?” Layla said as she looked at the dog. “We weren’t properly introduced.”
Alec chuckled. “I apologize for my manners,” he joked. “Lucky, this is Lana. Drop the leash and shake her hand.”
The dog dropped the leash, sat down, and lifted his front leg.
Her mouth dropped open as her hand reached out for his paw. “It’s nice to meet such a smart dog.”
He snorted. “Don’t let him fool you. He just recognizes small words like ride, walk, sleep, shake, and food.”
The dog grumbled as he turned his head to his master.
Alec laughed. “I was just kidding, boy. You need to learn how to take a joke.” He stood and scratched the dog behind his ears.
That seemed to appease Lucky.
Alec stopped petting the dog and pulled her into his arms. “When am I going to see you again?”
“I don’t know. Thanksgiving is coming up. I have to get things ready.”
His eyebrows went up. “You’re not putting me off, are you?”
“No,” she answered quickly. “I just don’t know when I’ll be able to slip away again.”
“You will. You’re clever,” he said with confidence.
Chapter 26
Layla stared at the dark reddish blotches on her neck and chest in the bathroom mirror. She tried thinking back – did she eat something yesterday that she had an allergic reaction to? “Hmm, yesterday I had eggs, ham, muffins; lunch was salad with eggs, onions, French dressing, and tomatoes. Dinner was leftover meatloaf which I had the day before and nothing happened,” she mumbled out loud as she touched the bruise on her neck. The rashes were a little sore, too. Layla wondered if she should go to the Emergicare. Then it struck her. Layla’s mouth dropped open. They were hickeys. “Oh shit,” she hissed with horror. How was a thirty-two-year-old married woman going to explain hickeys all over her when her husband was out of town? “How long is this going to last?” she asked as she glared at the blotches in the mirror.
After fifteen minutes of frantically combing through her wardrobe, she decided to put on a short-sleeved teal shirt that had a high neckline and black jeans.
****
Alec walked into the gym locker room. There was a young guy in there with a towel around his waist. He had wet, golden blond hair, and he looked to be in his mid-twenties. “Hi,” he greeted as he opened a locker.
“Hi,” Alec said back and walked to his locker. He placed his duffle bag on the bench and opened his lock. All he had to do was change his shirt since he wore his workout shorts there. As he was pulling his shirt off, he heard a low rumble of a chuckle. Alec finished pulling his shirt off, and then turned his head to look over his shoulder.
It was Bruce. He slowly strolled to him. His locker was next to Alec’s. “Well, you actually made it to the gym today,” Bruce said with a smirk. He rotated the combination lock on his locker.
Alec stared at him. “I don’t know if I should punch you or . . . thank you.”
Bruce smiled as he unhooked the lock and opened the door. “You should do the latter.” He grabbed a tube that looked like cream and offered it to Alec. “Here, this will help to clear those up quicker. I use it all the time,” he said with a smirk.
“Clear what up?” Alec asked with confusion.
Bruce’s dark eyebrows rose. “I take it they don’t hurt. Take a look at your back in the mirror, Alec.”
There was a spot in the locker room where there were three mirrors bolted to the wall. They were positioned for someone to be able to see around their body. Alec quickly walked over to it and turned to get a good look at his back. He was surprised to see a set of pink scratches on his lower back, four on each side.
“Goddamn!” the young man, who had put on a pair of faded jeans, said with admiration. “You are the man!”
Bruce burst out laughing.
The young guy cheesed and nodded at Alec.
Alec wiped his mouth to keep from smiling. He was embarrassed and proud at the same time. He cleared his throat and looked at Bruce. “I guess I do need that cream.”
****
It was Thanksgiving Day. Layla had baked bread, turkey, gravy, and dessert on Wednesday. They were having dessert and cocktails after dinner at Corey and Lacey Smith’s house. Matter of fact, Layla had to pull double duty today. Since the only thing Lacey could do in the kitchen was make coffee, tea, and boil eggs, Layla cooked the Smiths a small Thanksgiving dinner. Although, Lacey’s husband didn’t know that. Last year, Lacey had bought turkey TV dinners, and Corey had been displeased. This year, Lacey had begged Layla to cook for her. It wasn’t a big deal. All Layla had to do was pack up portions of their Thanksgiving dinner and pass it to Lacey over the privacy fence. Of course, Damien had known about it and had laughed hysterically as he watched from the backdoor window.
As they ate dinner, Layla felt a twinge of guilt. She had cheated on Damien, a man who had been good to her. He had saved her life, gave her a home, and the greatest little girl any mother would be proud of. Granted, he lied about it and her past, but she believed he meant well and wanted her to enjoy the rest of her life without worry that Carter Mitchell would find her.
“You’re awfully quiet, baby,” Damien said. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes. I guess I just don’t have anything to say,” Layla said with a small smile.
Damien grinned. “Well, I do. This is the best Thanksgiving dinner you have ever cooked. You outdid yourself.”
“Mmm, good,” Keisha said as she clapped her hands together. She was sitting in a booster seat. She was getting a little too big for the highchair.
“Thank you both. It’s nice to know that my family appreciates me.”
“We sure do. Isn’t that right, pumpkin?” Damien asked.
“Yeah,” Keisha said happily and picked up a cut carrot with her fingers. She slid it in her mouth.
They finished dinner. Layla quickly loaded the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. She grabbed the wrapped cheesecake out of the fridge. They walked out the door. Layla was carrying the dish, and Keisha held Damien’s hand as she walked beside him. Damien was carrying a small satchel filled with Keisha’s toys so she wouldn’t get bored at the Smiths.
Forty minutes later, they were lounging in the Smiths ornate living room. Keisha was playing with her dolls on the Oriental rug. Jazz played on the stereo. The adults were enjoying martinis.
“That cheesecake was out of this world, Layla,” Corey complimented as he nodded at her.
“Thank you,” Layla replied.
“Yes, it was very good,” Lacey added.
“So, Corey, what’s been new with you lately?” Damien asked. “We hadn’t had much of a chance to talk lately.”
Corey started talking about a few business deals he had in the works. Layla’s phone rang. She reached in her purse for her phone and answered. “Hello.”
“Why haven’t you returned any of my calls?” Alec asked.
Shit. Those martinis had her feeling so carefree that she didn’t even think about looking at her caller ID. Alec had tried calling her four times yesterday and twice that morning. Layla figured that he got her number from Bruce. She just didn’t have time for him. Her plan was to call him back tomorrow when Damien had gone to work. “Oh, hey, Margo.”
“Who? Oh, he’s around,” Alec said. “Get somewhere where you can talk.”
“Margo?” Damien inquired.
Layla stood up and took the phone away from her ear. “Yes, she’s having problems with a dish. I’ll just go in the kitchen to talk to her. Please excuse me,” she said and quickly walked out of the living room.
Once she was in the safety of Lacey’s kitchen, she got back on the phone. “You’re an animal, you know that?” she hissed.
“I beg your pardon?” he asked with confusion.
“I got hickeys all over me. I’m wearing a turtlene
ck on a seventy-two-degree evening because of you.”
He burst out laughing.
As far as she was concerned, it wasn’t funny. When Damien had asked her why she was wearing a turtleneck on such a nice day, she had to tell him that she felt a chill. He had thought she was catching a cold.
“Well, you weren’t complaining at the time,” he teased in a deep, sultry tone. “But if you want to compare battle scars, we can. My back looks like I got attacked by a wild cat.”
She placed her fingers on her forehead with a hint of embarrassment. “This isn’t a good time for me to talk. I’m at my friend’s house, and we’re all having cocktails. I’m in her kitchen as we speak.”
“I want to see you.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I can’t. I’m with my family and another couple at their house,” she stressed. “Besides, it’s Thanksgiving. Aren’t you with your parents?”
“No, they went to see my brother this year. Bruce, me, and few other guys are at a friend’s house. We had turkey legs and some sides. It was good, but now the guys want to go downstairs to play pool. But I’d rather talk to you.”
“I . . . I can’t break away now. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“I promise I will,” she said sincerely.
“All right. I’ll let you go – for now. Goodbye, sweetheart,” he said and hung up.
She slowly lowered the phone from her ear as her emotions did flipflops in her stomach. Of course she wanted to see Alec, but she couldn’t. Emptiness filled her. She missed him. She sighed with sadness.
“Layla?” Lacey inquired.
She turned around from the marble countertop.
Lacey held a stack of dirty dessert plates in one hand and an empty martini pitcher in the other. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes.”
Lacey cross the threshold. “Looks like I have to make another pitcher.” She placed it on the counter. “When did Margo start calling you for cooking advice?”
“It’s not an all the time thing. She has done it once before.” Now she was lying to Lacey. Layla had become what she hated the most, a deceitful, sneaky woman.
“Oh,” Lacey said.
Chapter 27
Margo power-walked up the sidewalk Friday morning. She wasn’t a jogger because her boobs were too big for that. Plus, she didn’t want them sagging before their time.
Dr. Damien Miles was coming out of his house. It was almost nine-thirty. He was usually gone by now. She figured he was going in late because of yesterday’s holiday.
“Hey, Margo!” Damien yelled. He started jogging toward her.
“Hey,” she said back and stopped to wait on him.
“How did that dish turn out for ya?” he asked with a small smile.
“Dish?”
“Yeah, the one you called Layla about yesterday.”
Margo plastered a smile on her face. Oh, someone used me as an excuse. She hadn’t seen or talked to Layla Miles in a week. And when they did talk, it was in passing. However, Layla was always polite and nice. “Great! She was really helpful. I don’t know what I would have done without her cooking tips.”
“That’s good. I would love to chat some more, but I got to get to the office.”
“Okay, before you go, is Layla inside? I wanted to thank her again and pick her brain about how to cook mussels.”
“Yeah, she’s in there. The door is open. Go on in. Have a great day,” he said and walked away.
“You, too.” Margo quickly walked through the well-manicured yard and approached the storm door. She tapped on the glass and cracked the door open. “Hello?” she called out in an innocent voice.
“Si?” the Spanish woman who worked for the Mileses answered as she came to the door. Layla’s little girl was peeking behind the woman’s leg.
“Hi, I’m Margo. I live in the light brown house at the end of the cul-de-sac. I was wondering if I could come in and chat with Layla for a minute.”
She could hear Damien’s Denali pulling out of the driveway.
“Of course, come in,” the woman said jollily.
Margo opened the door wider and stepped inside. “Thank you.”
“She’s in the kitchen. Just walk straight through there,” the Latina said as she pointed out the way.
“All right. How are you today, Keisha?”
“Fine,” the little girl answered as she tightened her hold on the nanny’s pants’ leg.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Margo walked to the kitchen. The sound of water running got louder.
Layla was washing dishes.
“Hey, Layla.”
Layla whirled around. “Oh, Margo.”
“Your nanny let me in and said to come back. I hope that was all right.”
“Sure,” she said with a smile as she grabbed a dish towel.
Margo smiled and approached her. “You know, I had the strangest exchange with your husband just now.”
“You did?” Layla asked with confusion.
“Yes, apparently, he thinks I called you last night to ask for help on a dish I was cooking?” Margo asked in a light tone.
Layla froze, and her eyes turned into a deer’s when it was caught in headlights.
Yep, she’s cheating on her husband. If Margo didn’t catch her in the lie, she would have figured it out by the bad makeup job Layla had done on her neck. No doubt, she was trying to conceal a hickey. “It’s okay. I covered for you.”
Her shoulders relaxed a little, and her eyebrows furrowed. “You did?”
“Yep. Damien doesn’t suspect that you got a phone call that . . . you didn’t want him to know about.”
“Look, I don’t know what you . . . believe, but let me explain.”
“You don’t owe me—"
“Yes, I do,” Layla interrupted and put the dish towel on the counter. “I’m arranging a Christmas surprise for Damien, and of course I don’t want him to know—"
“I like you, Layla, so please don’t insult my intelligence, because it will make me dislike you,” Margo stated.
Surprise registered on Layla’s face.
“Do you know why I like you, Layla?”
“No.”
“Because with the exception of Lacey Smith, you are the only woman in this neighborhood that doesn’t treat me like I am beneath them. That’s why I helped you.”
“Oh,” she said as a small smile formed on her lips. “Well, I figured that we outcasts should stick together.”
Margo grinned. “Well, you’re not quite the outcast anymore. You’re moving up the ranks of Tampa society.”
“I don’t forget a kindness, Margo,” Layla said with conviction. “I’ll remember this. I promise you.”
In that moment, she liked Layla more. “I appreciate it, but don’t worry about it. I better get back to my workout.” Margo turned to leave and then realized that she wanted to help Layla with something else. “Oh, I almost forgot.”
“What?”
Margo leaned in close. “When covering up hickeys, it’s best to use a primer that isn’t too creamy and greasy, and then use foundation and then powder to keep the makeup in place,” she explained in a whisper.
Layla’s cheeks slowly turned pink as she bashfully smiled. “Hmm. Perhaps I should have called you yesterday. That way I wouldn’t have been wearing a turtleneck on a seventy-two-degree day.”
They both laughed.
****
Considering the close call Layla had that morning, she took extra precautions in meeting with Alec that afternoon. She had put on a pink top, a white skirt, a large, floppy straw hat, and a pair of dark Gucci glasses.
Alec had left the FBI office for lunch, and he only had an hour. So they had agreed to meet at a downtown deli that was only a block away from the FBI building.
She parked in an hour-only parking space on the street and made her way to the deli. Alec was sitting in the outside eating area. He stood when he saw her. As she approache
d him, she licked her lips all the while admiring the dark suit and blue, striped tie he had on. He was wearing dark sunglasses.
“Good grief,” he snickered. “I feel like I’m meeting an eyewitness on a case. What’s with the hat?”
“I can’t be seen by someone I know talking to a strange man in public,” she whispered.
“I . . . Strange?” he joked.
“Oh, you know what I mean,” she said, flustered.
Alec chuckled. “Don’t worry. I already took care of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Walk with me,” he instructed.
He escorted her away from the front of the deli and walked her down the alley.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“We’re going through the back.”
They got to a dingy steel door. Alec knocked on it. It wasn’t long before a fat, greasy-looking, middle-aged, white man opened it. He had stains all over his white apron and shirt. “Hey, man. Come on in.”
“Thanks,” Alec said
They stepped inside the back kitchen. Despite the dirty-looking man, the kitchen was immaculate. “The office is over there. Take your time.”
“Thanks again, Frank,” Alec said.
“Sure, and don’t you worry, miss. You’re in good hands,” Frank said with a small smile.
“Um, thank you,” Layla said.
Alec gently took Layla’s elbow and walked her to a white door. He opened it for her and let her walk in first. The office wasn’t fancy. A wooden chair was behind a standard steel desk with a computer and some papers on top of it. Three file cabinets lined the wall, and a green leather couch was in the corner.
She heard the lock click behind her. When she turned around, Alec was on her. “I missed you,” he whispered as he stared into her eyes
“I missed you, too. How did you get that guy to let us talk in his office?”
“He knows I work for the bureau. A lot of the guys come here. Anyway, I told Frank you were a witness who was too afraid to come into the office. I asked him if we could use his office to talk. He was more than willing to oblige.”
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